


Seize The Day

by ResidentHothead



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 8 Year Old Daryl Dixon, But I Need Him Young For This, Daryl ain't takin no shit, Dwight Picks on Little Kids, Gen, He Doesn't Age, It's Probably Concerning, Negan Takes a Shining to Little Daryl, Negan is a Prick, Starts At Season 6 Finale, canonical character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 17:29:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResidentHothead/pseuds/ResidentHothead
Summary: When some bigass fucktard who is introduced as "Negan" enters the picture, everything is anything but easy street for our favorite group of survivors. Especially Glenn and Abraham.





	Seize The Day

Shit was about as tense as you could expect when you're forced on your knees with an armada of assholes packing heavy heat surrounding you in the middle of the damn woods. Everyone was trembling in some sort of fear or anger, and a few members of their group had yet to be found. Specifically: Michonne, Glenn, Rosita and little Daryl. Of course, Daryl could take care of himself. But he wasn't exactly the strongest, being a tiny 8 year old as underweight as he was. Sure, he knew how to use force and his height to his advantage in a fight, but more than maybe three guys could get the jump on him. The other three? They could surely handle themselves.  
  
"Alright, lets get the others." That one guy who was tall and a serious wise ass had said, and then called for Dwight to get them out of the back of their truck. Michonne was yanked out first, then Rosita. They were thrown to the ground, and then a struggling Glenn came next, he was thrown a little harsher, especially when he tried to get up to get to Maggie. Last was Daryl. He was pale, a blanket draped around his shoulders, which was smeared with blood, his own blood. Blood that covered his chest and his dark shirt and stained his hands completely. He was sweating, weak. He was injured. Dwight threw the kid especially hard, but Daryl defiantly sat up on his knees straight away, like he wasn’t just a piece of shit you toss around. And he honestly was starting to believe that right now. But Dwight had been livid with the seemingly unkillable eight year old and would manhandle the kid as he pleased.  
  
It was like this was straight out of a horror movie or something, _what the fuck was happening_? They had always been fighting, struggling, but never on their knees at the mercy of somebody else. Not even at Terminus. They should be able to fight this. But when a man had stepped out of _their_ RV, one that they had forcefully removed Eugene from in attempt (a poor one at that) to fool these motherfuckers into thinking they'd just keep driving. But somehow, these cuntnuggets had _planned_ that Rick would make this spontaneous move. Which was really fucking unsettling.  
  
_"Pissin’ our pants yet?"_ The man weilding the dangerous looking bat asked once he exited the RV, a scary ass grin on his face that made everyone want to pee their pants, honestly. "Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close." They indeed were getting close. His deep voice spoke with an amused tone laced with authority, someone not to fuck with. Despite the fact that his leather jacket and tight ass pants made him look more like a fucking tool than anything, Daryl knew damn well not to fuck with this man. _At least not yet_. "Yep. It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here _real_ soon." If not poop city. "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" He asked, examining the group. It was a colorful bunch, verying in age, race, and gender. And it was honestly surprising how a group with such scrawny people, save for Abraham’s macho ass, had done so much to actually get Negan so nettled.  
  
"It’s this one." The tall, fuckboy savior pointed to Rick. _Stop snitching, motherfucker_. "He’s the guy." And Negan sighed, approaching him slowly with a somewhat sarcastic smile. "Hi. You’re Rick, right?" And that was fucking grossly terrifying, how had he known Rick’s name? Well, these assholes were probably spying on them for a while now. Dwight sure as hell knew when and where to find Daryl too many times for him to be comfortable with. "I’m Negan." That’s fucking gay. "And I _do not_ appreciate you killing my men." And Daryl realized it was probably a bad time to mention that he, Maggie and Carol had probably done the most killing between the ladies getting captured and Daryl’s rocket launcher biker incident. Nah, they could just leave that detail out.  
  
"Also when I sent my people to kill your people, for killing _my_ people, _you killed more of my people_." Well what the fuck did he expect them to do? Let them? Fat fucking chance, Megan. " _Not cool._ Not cool. You have _no idea_ how _not cool_ that shit is." Well.. whoops. The damage is done. "But, I think you’re going to be up to speed, shortly." And honestly, this monologue was just fucking dragging _on_. No one actually gave a shit what this guy was saying, they just kinda wanted to go home. But of course, the world wasn’t too fucking friendly anymore, so that wasn’t going to fucking happen.  
  
"So now.. _I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one’a you_." Negan decided after his boring ass speech about him owning them and their doors and the pee-pee in their pants and all that shit. And really, Daryl was half-heartedly hoping he was the one to die just to get this dumb motherfucker to shut his shit up. But of course, he didn’t. Despite his fear, the big ginger Abraham sat up tall to Negan and Carl glared him down like the little sociopath he’s turning out to be. His lack of fear wasn’t because he was brave. It was because he was stupid. Naive. Shit usually worked out for him, really only his mother dying was the only thing to go wrong in his life. He took stupid risks and wanted blood to be shed from every being that dared breathe in his direction the wrong way. So basically Carl needed to chill his shit a little.  
  
At a joke about killing Maggie, Glenn understandably lost his shit, causing dumbass Dwight to struggle with him, pointing _Daryl’s crossbow_ at him that he had stolen for the _second fucking time_. "No. Nope. Get him back in line." And as Glenn pleaded for Maggie’s life, Negan chuckled. "Alright, listen. Don’t _any of ya_ do that again. _I will shut that shit down,_ no exceptions. First one’s free. It’s an emotional moment, I get that." It’s like an adult attempting to be relatable, gross. Shut the fuck up Negan. "This is your kid, right?" He asked Rick, motioning to Carl with his stupid bat. What gave it away, genius? "This is definitely your kid."  
"Just stop this!"  
_"Hey!"_ Negan yelled in response to Rick’s outburst. "Do not make me kill the little future serial killer." And they’d all be damned if Carl wasn’t that already. Daryl fidgeted, his legs starting to fall asleep under him. But a sharp jab to the back by a foot he could only assume belonged to faggot ass Dwight had stilled him, though not without an annoyed grunt that was too quiet for Negan to hear, all wrapped up in the Rick bullshit.  
  
And after a really unecessary game of eeny meeny miney moe, it was Abraham who got his shit bashed in. And it was fucking _horrifying_. "Suck. My Nuts." Was definitely a badass last few words, but it didn’t exactly comfort the group around his... body. Daryl kept his eyes closed and his head down, trying to drift off to that place he used to visit in his mind when Pa was off his shit and tearing around the house smacking anything that was basically in eyesight. But it didn’t work. He soon opened his eyes and glanced up at Negan, and then down at what used to be Abraham. God, he’d never seen such a gruesome sight. And it was scary. But Daryl couldn’t allow himself to be scared. Not after Pa. He wouldn’t let anyone else win again. He _couldn’t_.  
  
Negan shoving the bloodied bat in Rosita’s shocked face was the last straw. _"Take a damn look!"_ And Daryl stood up and elbowed the man hard in the stomach with all the force he could muster up, and when Negan doubled over, he punched him in the face just before there were many hands on him, hitting him and forcing him to the ground. "Daryl!" Rick had called, but that didn’t do shit. "No!" Negan yelled, pointing that bat at Daryl now. And he was ready. Fuck it. He could die, knowing he hit that sonovabitch. More than he ever did to Pa. "That.. is a no-no." Negan bent down, looking at Daryl’s struggling figure in the grip of his men. "The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!" And then here comes fuckass Dwight, rubbing that damn crossbow in and pointing it at his face, itching to pull that trigger. "You want me to do it?" He asked hastily, all too eager to put the kid down. "Right here." And Negan pulled at Daryl’s dirty blond locks to get a look at that feral expression, one that showed no fear in the face of death. He still struggled, even with a weapon on him. "No. No, you don’t kill them. Not until you try a little." Negan’s grin was evident in his voice, and fuck all if Daryl knew what that meant.  
  
"Now Dwight, quit pickin’ on kindey-gardners, huh?" He teased, and Dwight stepped down. Negan stood up as Dwight and two other men dragged Daryl back to his spot in line. "Wow _ee_ , that kid has a _bite_. That one ain’t yours, is it, Rick? Nah, can’t be. And anyway..." He continued. "That’s not how it works." He didn’t even notice he screamed when that bat came down on Glenn’s head. His throat was suddenly sore, and his eyes were welled with tears. That was supposed to be _him,_ not _Glenn_!  
  
Guilt filled his chest, he had just gotten Glenn killed. Glenn was dead because of him. He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, he couldn’t believe that had just happened. Glenn had been his friend since the quarry in Atlanta. Well, since after the farm. But they’d known each other since Atlanta.  
  
Everything was a blur after that. Negan taking Rick for what seemed to be a few hours, Rick almost cutting off Carl’s arm with a hatchet... It was cold and early hours of the morning and fucking birds still had the audacity to chirp lively around them while two of their men were _dead_. Fucking birds, Daryl would kill them all.  
  
"Ah, Dwight. _Load him up_." And Daryl hadn’t known who Negan was talking about until Dwight lifted Daryl from underneath his arms rather agrressively and carried him back to that van he’d been stuffed in the first time around. He was thrown in, crossbow shoved in his face that he needed to scramble away from before he could even process what was happening. Why did Negan want _him_? Daryl was no good, he knew that. He just acted impulsively and got Glenn killed... Did this fucker really want even more payback for the blows Daryl had managed to land? "He’s got guts." Daryl heard him say when he pushed his ear against the now closed van doors to listen in on what was happening. "Not a _little bitch_ like someone I know." Well, that wasn’t very nice. And he could only imagine that insult was directed at Rick, who’d been blubbering mindlessly but a minute ago. "I like him. He’s mine now." Well shit. "But if you still want to try something? ‘Not today, not tomorrow’," he mocked Rick, "I will cut pieces off of.. Hell’s his name?" And the tall fucker answered, making Daryl cringe at the sound of his own name being spoken by these pricks. "Daryl."  
  
" _Wow_. That actually sounds right." Negan chuckled in amusement, making Daryl’s blood, what’s left of it inside of his body, just boil. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put ‘em on your doorstep-- _or_ , better yet, I’ll bring him to you and have _you_ do it for me." That idea did not sound too fucking peachy to Daryl’s ears, no sir-ee.

 


End file.
